


The Wrong Side of Every Door

by stars_inthe_sky



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Cats, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Mild Smut, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:33:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars_inthe_sky/pseuds/stars_inthe_sky
Summary: On coming and going, seeing through the dark, and learning to land on your feet.Or: Five times Liho got in the way, and one time she didn’t.





	1. I would much prefer a flat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buckynatashas](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=buckynatashas).



> [buckynatashas](http://buckynatashas.tumblr.com/) prompted "buckynat as foster parents" but did not specify to whom.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up from the pot she’s stirring. “Hmm?”

“When did we get a cat?”

She whirls around to look at Bucky, who’s sitting in his usual spot on the couch and absently petting a black cat that has settled on his lap. The animal seems to be debating whether to stay put or not but loses resolve with every stroke of his hand. Natasha blinks in surprise; the comings and goings of their lives aren’t exactly conducive to caring for pets, and neither of them has ever had much interest in having one anyway.

“She doesn’t have a collar, and I couldn’t feel any tracker implants, either,” Bucky says. “So I’m guessing stray, but…assuming this isn’t some nefarious enemy plot, how on Earth d’you think she got _in_ here?”

Satisfied if he is that the cat isn’t an immediate threat, Natasha turns back to her risotto. “Open window in the bedroom? It was pretty hot last night.”

“I closed that when I got up, though. And locked it.”

When she glances back at him, Bucky has shifted to lie down across the couch, and the cat has rolled onto her back to allow him to scratch her stomach. “Balcony?”

“Also closed and locked,” he replies, gesturing with his free hand. His new friend cranes her neck, eyes following the length of his arm as if suspicious of its use for anything besides petting her.

“So is the front door…” Natasha trails off, mentally reviewing the list of every vulnerable entrance point to their apartment. She can tell Bucky’s doing the same, and they’re both coming up short. Turning off the stove, she scoops dinner into a bowl to cool off and plops on the couch atop Bucky’s legs. The cat promptly loses interest in him and turns her attentions to Natasha, who can’t help smiling just a little when she elicits a purr from the little creature.

“Gotta admit, she’s a charmer, huh?” Bucky tugs on Natasha hand, and she settles into his arms, the cat cuddled into the curve of her torso atop his chest. “Even if she is some kind of feline superspy.”

Natasha chuckles. “Superspy? I thought cats were supposed to be powerful magical creatures. And black cats in particular—” She falls silent as Bucky’s fingers thread through her hair, as calmed by his touch as the cat had been.

“Eh, that’s just superstition. And anyway, if we’re gonna just suddenly have a pet, a partially feral kitty with supernatural sneaking abilities seems appropriate, right?” Bucky moves his hand to her cheek, tilting her face to him and leaning forward to kiss her.

Natasha hums contentedly, and the warmth of the cat against her body feels as natural as that of her boyfriend. “Yeah…as long as she hasn’t voodooed dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Likho_ roughly means "trouble" or "bad luck" in Ukrainian, which is appropriate for a [black cat living in Little Ukraine](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Liho_\(Earth-616\)), don't you think?


	2. Nothing I enjoy like a horrible muddle

“Natalia?”

Bucky wraps his hands around each of Natasha’s shins, struggling to stay standing in one place. Sitting on his shoulders, she rummages around the back of the top shelf of the storage closet muttering something about a rice cooker she’d liberated from the depths of what passes for a kitchen in Clint’s apartment.

“Nat!”

“Huh?” She wiggles again, this time yelping as her head thumps against the doorframe. “Ow! Stop moving, _lyubimyi_!”

He winces and tries to steady himself again. “I’m trying, darlin’, but it’s hard when the world’s strongest pair of thighs keep yanking my neck in different directions.”

“Oh…crap. Sorry.” Natasha returns to her rummaging, legs still. After another thirty seconds or so, though, Bucky jerks sideways again. “Hey! I know that wasn’t me that time.”

He glances down at Liho, who’s batting the ragged hem of his sweatpants a little too innocently. “No, sorry—Liho kinda startled me. Where the fuck is this rice cooker of yours?”

“Maybe I’m misremembering. Kate ended up with a bunch of his shit, too,” she admits, sitting up straight. “Oh well. Thanks for helping me look…minus the bump I’m sure is forming on my noggin.”

“No prob— _aah_!” Bucky staggers sideways, trying desperately not to fall over or drop Natasha or both, when Liho digs her claws into his pants and starts climbing up his leg. “Nat—”

She looks down just in time to see the cat move determinedly over his groin and up his stomach, which makes Bucky cry out and stumble backwards. He tips away from the closet and the wall, but then one of Liho’s claws sinks straight through his t-shirt into his skin.

Bucky abandons any hope of staying upright, losing his grip on Natasha as his arms flail out in futile attempt to grab onto something. Natasha manages to unhook herself from him in time to roll rather fall than onto the floor, but Bucky keeps falling, and the rapid shock of gravity makes Liho yowl in terror. He lands on top of Natasha with a groan, a small bloody stain growing on his chest as the cat darts away, fleeing through a window he could’ve sworn had been closed earlier.

Natasha coughs, and Bucky rolls off of her. “Anything broken? I think I got more bruises just now than on that messed-up thing in Pittsburgh last week, but…”

He sits up, checking each extremity and rotating his neck and shoulders a couple of times. “Nope, just some skin uncomfortably close to my good nipple.”

At that, she bursts into laughter. “Your _good_ nipple?”

“Yeah, it’s the one on the right, where the nerve endings aren’t all fucked…”

She manages to look a little chagrined at that. “Well, look on the bright side. At least we know we gave the cat the right name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [nataliaromanovs](http://nataliaromanovs.tumblr.com/), whose terrific [fanart](http://nataliaromanovs.tumblr.com/post/154435971364/titled-what-liho-wants-liho-gets-alternate) inspired this scene.


	3. And I make such a fuss

Natasha’s head hits the pillow, and she digs her fingers into it, moaning urgently as Bucky kisses his way from her bared breasts down her stomach. He’s just skimming his lips across her thigh when something soft but firm pokes the ball of her foot, causing her whole leg to jerk and sending her knee into Bucky’s hip.

“What the—” He rolls over and she sits up just in time to see Liho make a leap for Natasha’s other foot. “How does she always get in here?”

Natasha flops back onto the bed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hell if I know—just get her out of here!”

Bucky looks frantically around the room before spotting a pad of paper on the nightstand, collecting dust next to the long-unused landline. Crawling over Natasha, he rips off the top sheet, crumples it into a ball, and chucks it over the bed and across the room. Liho dives for the paper, human feet forgotten.

Natasha groans in relief as Bucky returns his attention—and his mouth—to her breasts while he nudges a finger between her thighs. “So wet,” he murmurs.

“I’m just waiting on you now, _milii moi_ ,” she retorts, sitting up just enough to reach for his already growing erection. He shifts to give her better access, leaning into a slow kiss and flicking one of her nipples. Natasha moans again, the sound of his name giving way to a low monotone that transforms after several seconds into a shriek as Liho trots over their intertwined legs. Bucky jerks with equal surprise.

Their eyes meet resignedly, and he reaches for the pad of paper again, keeping his other hand on her breast while she continues her ministrations. He throws another wad, a few sheets thick this time, through the bedroom door into the hallway, and Liho pounces on it, her claws skittering against the hardwood floor.

“Where were we, James?” she asks, voice husky, and he slides into her by way of an answer. They get a slow, steady rhythm going as she runs her hands up and down his chest, finally grasping the back of his neck to pull him closer.

“God, Natalia, you’re so—” Any coherence Bucky might have had washes away as she clenches her thighs around his hips, locking them together in gentle ecstasy.

She screams his name suddenly, quickening their pace to take her pleasure, and he follows her lead. One of Natasha’s hands drops away, and he buries his head in the pillow, nipping at the crook of her neck as an orgasm shudders through him. He’s just coming down from its throes when he feels her arm passing over his back and realizes she’s tossing yet another paper ball across the room to distract Liho.

Before Bucky can say anything, though, she’s wrapped herself even tighter around his middle, somehow riding him from below, urging herself into a quick but evidently satisfying climax and laughing in relief when they both finish.

He crumples up more paper and drops it to the floor off the side of the bed, just in case, and it’s a matter of mere seconds before there’s a clicking of claws against wood again.


	4. No doing anything about it

Bucky had turned down every offer of help in packing his stuff from what had once been Natasha’s apartment and would soon be again, but he finds himself regretting the privacy almost immediately. She’s still in recovery, and just about all of their mutual friends—the people she’d remembered and recognized—are with her. He hadn’t wanted anyone else, not even Clint or Logan or Maria, going through what was left of their life together, and if doing the job solo also drew out the pain of it, well, he hadn’t wanted anyone else getting into that, either.

This had been his home, too, damn it, and just because Bucky had made a choice didn’t mean he had to relish the process.

After packing up his clothing into the U-Haul, he trashes various foodstuffs and knickknacks that don’t need to make the move with him and carries more boxes of records, books, and assorted gear down stair after stair. If the neighbors notice, they don’t ask.

He even makes it stoically through a very careful inventory of what had become their shared arsenal, picking out which guns were actually whose, those knives that fit his holsters, and the stingers he’d gotten her for her birthday last year that she probably wouldn’t know to miss anymore.

When everything Bucky owns is in the truck, and he’s held it together the whole time, he thinks,  _I’ll be okay_. _It hurts, but I’m_ …

That’s when he spots Liho, curled up in a patch of sunlight on the couch. She hadn’t been here all afternoon, and he still frankly has no idea how she gets in and out of the apartment when someone’s not there to open the window.

He’d felt a little bad for leaving the cat alone over the last few weeks as everything that mattered had fallen apart, but evidently she had been fine. Just like her mistress would be—Bucky has no illusions about either of them following him to whatever apartment Sam had secured for him.

Liho stares unblinking for a few seconds, as if surprised to see Bucky at all. Then she makes an urgent mewling noise, and he joins her on the couch, not even thinking about his automatic movements until he’s petting her, the both of them cozy in their well-worn spots. The sunlight makes him sleepy and a little dazed, and he looks without thinking to his left, half-expecting Natasha to be sitting there, ready to prove the cat likes her better and stealing the DVR remote from under his nose.

She isn’t, of course, and as much as he already knew that, he chokes on the fresh realization, throwing his head back as he tries and finally fails to keep from crying. Years of abuse and clandestine work keep him from making a sound beyond the ragged gasps of his breathing, but the tears roll down his face, hot and furious, and he can’t stop the silent, shaking sobs.

For a moment, he wonders what would happen if she came in just now, with no idea who the brokenhearted man on her couch is or why he would be in her empty apartment without any evidence of his occupancy. The thought of it, of seeing her look through him again, brings a fresh round of tears.

Just as Bucky starts to feel like some twisted parody of himself, Liho climbs partway up his chest, her front paws balanced on his front as she settles her nose into the crook of his neck. He freezes, not wanting to startle her into scratching, but she settles herself against him, quiet and steady.

He tightens his arms around her little body, willing himself to be still, and, after what might have been five minutes or an hour, his breathing levels out and his cheeks start to dry. Liho doesn’t move at all, not until the sun starts to set and Bucky forces himself to stand, smoothing out the dent in the cushion before he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [nataliaromanovs](http://nataliaromanovs.tumblr.com/), whose [beautifully sad fanart](http://nataliaromanovs.tumblr.com/post/154569246754/of-course-bucky-would-be-the-one-to-remove-every) partially inspired this scene.


	5. A matter of habit

Natasha wanders into her apartment, still feeling uncomfortably dazed and distant from her surroundings after so much time away. She drops her duffel bag of tactical equipment and mission-specific gear inside and then just stands there, swaying slightly on the spot, wondering what she’s supposed to do now that things are quiet again.

As if on cue, Liho appears, purring excitedly and twining herself in figure eights around Natasha’s ankles. The incorrigible feline nudges her with such urgency that Natasha can’t help smiling a little, and she crosses the threshold, locking the door behind her. She follows Liho from room to room, running her hands over dusty surfaces and reacquainting herself with her space—not quite personal, but still _hers_ —as the cat inspects every corner, seeming to hunt for something she can’t find.

The brief tour, which takes them to the balcony and back into the living room, leaves Natasha feeling more settled, both at home and in her own skin, despite the eerie quiet of the place. She leaves Liho sniffing around the couch to extract a beer from the fridge—she doesn’t remember having bought a six-pack of Baltika, but then, she doesn’t remember a lot of recent developments, it seems. Shrugging off the mild mystery, she rejoins Liho.

Natasha pauses in the space between rooms, compelled by some quirk of muscle memory she can’t explain to look back over her shoulder, not quite expecting someone to have followed her but needing to check anyway. The space behind her is as empty as the rest of the apartment, though, as soundless and unthreatening as she had left it however many weeks ago.

She shakes her head to clear it and chugs some of her beer, too. Though she had been gone too long to have fresh milk on hand, there are cat treats in the cupboard, and she carries a couple into the living room in what she hopes Liho will accept as an apology for her too-lengthy absence.

Liho pounces on the first treat when she drops it on the floor, then follows Natasha’s hand up onto the couch in pursuit of the second. Natasha sits on the left side of the couch like she usually does, sipping her beer and curling her legs underneath her body, as Liho chews rapidly, swallows, and stretches out alongside Natasha’s thigh. They sit in a comfortable, companionable silence for a long few minutes, breathing in time.

It’s a much-needed moment of peace in light of recent events, and Natasha is grateful for it. Still, there’s an itch at the back of her mind, like a mission left unfulfilled, a loose end yet to be tied. Her instinct is to right it, but, consciously, she knows there’s nothing left to fix for now. In lieu of that, she sets down her beer and pets Liho, who rewards the attention with a purr, ears drooping as if to create more space for Natasha’s fingers atop her head.

Natasha lets her cat’s relief wash through her, trying to let go of whatever post-traumatic tension needs releasing. She glances around the room, her gaze finally settling on the undisturbed cushions to her right. The itch resurges then, and she can’t assuage it.

Even when she shifts to lying down across the length of the couch, it only stops when she drifts off to sleep, still wondering what Liho was looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Baltika](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baltika_Breweries) is a Russian beer widely available internationally, including in the United States.


	6. When you let me in

Bucky trails behind Natasha as they enter the apartment, neither speaking. He steps aside to let her close and lock the door, waiting for her to interrupt the silence.

“You can just stick your coat in the—oh. I guess you know where…” She trails off as he hangs his jacket in the nearby closet. He reaches a hand toward her, and she hurriedly unties her trench coat to give to him. Outerwear dealt with, they stare not quite at each other for several more silent seconds.

Finally, Natasha asks, “Do you…want a drink or something?”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Is there any of that Baltika left?”

She blinks, then nods mutely. Opening the fridge, she withdraws two bottles, taps the tops against the edge of the counter to pop off the caps, and sets both on the gray laminate as Bucky circles to the other side of the counter, settling on a barstool. Neither of them moves.

Finally, Bucky looks her in the eye, chugs half of his beer without pausing for breath, and asks, “So, does Liho still come around here? I always figured she liked you better.”

Natasha takes a slow sip. “You know about Liho, too? I mean, I know what you said about our, you know, I just…”

He nods, smiling a little. “I was there from the first time she came around—we couldn’t figure out how the hell she got in. Never did, actually.”

“That sounds about right.” Natasha manages a small laugh. “Did you name her? I’m thinking about it now, and I can’t—I don’t think I remember when she started showing up. It’s like she’s just always been here.”

“But nothing with—” Bucky breaks off midsentence and stares hard at his hands as if willing things to be different might actually work this time.

She keeps her gaze level when he looks back to her for an answer. “No, I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he shrugs, picking at the label on his bottle. “More mine, really. But yeah, I came up with the name—seemed appropriate.”

“I’ll say.”

“Yeah, you always liked it.” They drink in silence for a long handful of seconds before Natasha speaks.

“Can I ask you something?” Without waiting for an answer, she continues, “I believe you when you say what happened, what we…had. And it’s pretty clear you’re still—that it hurts you to be here, when I don’t remember any of it and may not ever. So—for real this time—why did you come back?”

She tilts her beer into her mouth, but her eyes stay fixed on him.

“You invited me back into your life,” he says. “I could never deny you.”

“It sounded like a good thing, what we had.”

Bucky inhales sharply. “It was.”

“Could I ask you for a favor, then? James?”

“Yeah—yes. Of course. Anything for you, Natalia, you know that.”

“Thank you,” she replies, voice barely above a whisper. “Would you help me make some new memories? With you?”

His gasp is quiet and he nods wordlessly, the metal of his hand clinking against the countertop as it quivers. Natasha slides her hand over his, and he slowly turns his palm over to face hers. There’s another long silence before they each lean toward the other, equally tentative and careful. The silence turns warm as they kiss, slow and gentle.

Neither notices the sleek black shadow of a cat, slipping into the living room with slivers of the setting sunlight through some unseen crack in the window.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished! Thanks to all for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [shadowoftherat](http://shadowoftherat.tumblr.com/) and [scullyseviltwin](http://scullyseviltwin.tumblr.com) for chatting with me about the rewarding and ridiculous aspects of cat ownership.
> 
> Story and section titles are from the _Cats_ song "[The Rum Tum Tugger](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inZ9AvxLohw)" by Andrew Lloyd Webber. I apologize for nothing.


End file.
